Sunday, November 30, 2008

So I deliver pizzas part-time, just another one of my MANY skills and interests. Delivering Pizza's is fun and can be quite interesting at times, like the time I delivered a pizza to "family" of Skin Heads.

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The Pizza Industry Is Thriving

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Tips, 11/30/08, Connecticut

My Marketing 101 teacher told me that people satisfy their needs in a series of steps starting with basic needs (FOOD, shelter, clothing) and ending with the need to be "viewed positively" by others (or something to that effect). With that being said, contrary to popular belief, restaurants are still doing relatively well despite the current economic climate. Are people eating at the Four Seasons every night like they used to? Probably not, but I work at a small "family style" Italian Resaraunt and we seem to be doing alright!

Delivering Pizza's is the best part-time job I've ever had.

For the following reasons:

1) It's easy-Time seems to fly, probably because I spend most of shift in my car listening to music and smoking cigarettes.

2) You can make a decent amount of money- I only get paid $7/hour but in addition to tips, I generally walk out of there with more money than I would working anywhere else in town

3) You get to know your town-I'm a wizard at navigating!

4) You get to meet all the beautiful MILFs in town-This is the BEST part of the job. Women seem to like when I ring their door bells (pun intended)

5) You get to meet "interesting" people-Not just interesting people but I've been in some of the nicest houses, and some of the ugliest, strangest pieces of shit houses/trailers in a town that's considered to be one of the wealthiest communities in the US! The later being the more interesting...

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Skinheads Like Black People Too

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Hail Hitler, 11/12/08,

A few days after Thanksgiving I had a busy night delivering pizzas. I guess everyone finally finished off their left over turkey and mac n' cheese, and decided to go back to the Pizza and Penne Ala Vodka.

I've gotten to the point where delivering is actually enjoyable. At first when I started, I made a few mistakes and it was hard to find houses, but now that I have a regular clientel and know the roads "insert cliche phrase here", I thoroughly enjoy going to work.

Sunday Night...

So I was told to deliver a pizza and some other food to house in a neighboring town (Weston, CT). The directions were to follow Smith Field RD until I got to the end, where the road would turn into 22 Smith Field. The man who ordered the pizza noted that there were no lights on outside and that the delivery MAN should bring change because he only had a 100 dollar bill to offer. A bit odd, but the street sounded familiar so I thought it was "regular customer".

I get to the house and everything seems normal, the outside is a bit run down, no nice cars in the drive way, but it's on a nice street and all, so I get out of my car, grab the food, almost slip on the ground and bust my ass and so I think, "gee, I wonder what would have happened if I slipped-could I sue?"

I get to the door and I notice through the screen door that the house is filled with junk. I've been to a few creepy houses to deliver food before and they all seem to have the same characteristics in common: 1) Through out the house is this cheap brown wood covering everything, 2) they're all cluttered and 3) they all have creepy people living in them.

I go to the door and the man invites me in. The guy had a bald head, but enough hair in the back to tie the back of his hair in a pony tail. I got a strange vibe as soon as I walked into the house. Strange houses must give off bad vibes because the whole experience felt erely familiar.

To my left was a kid about my age, who I believe was the mans son. The kid was OBVIOUSLY drugged out, pupils no bigger than a sharp pencil point, he looked worn out, disassociated on new levels. He stared at me with his mouth hung open. It was so obvious to me that this kid was HIGH, and I'm not talking "I smoked a few bowls of reefer high" I'm talking FUCKED up! Did his father know?

"Nice Peacoat" the chubby kid said in a soft voice.

"Thanks"

I imagine the kid was on pain killers. Always remember, pupils get smaller when someones on downers and they get bigger when they're on uppers-that's always the tell tail sign.

He was a bit fidgety and had that fire in his eyes that was all too familiar.

I was spooked the fuck out.

To my right was a kid, maybe all of 15 years old wearing no shirt, pale like he hadn't seen sun in months, with a shaved head and stocky build.

I'm not fucking historian or expert but some common signs of Skinheads, or Neo Nazi's or just sketchy people that you should be careful of in general are:

1) A Leader-Usually there's one male figure that looks over all "the boys"

2) Shaved Head/Stocky Build- They're not called Skinheads for nothing

3) No Female Presence- No mothers or women around.

4) Drugs- Meth, Coke, Pills, Etc.

The guy hands over a crisp 100 dollar bill.

"How much would you like back?"

"Uhh, give me 65"

The man and "his son" watch over me in silence as I count out 65 dollars as fast as my little black hands could. Had he of said, "Pizza's free tonight boy!". I would have replied, "Oh is it? That sounds about right to me", with a big old smile on my face-I was scared out of my mind, spooked out is the best way to put it, all I wanted to do was get the fuck outta there, didn't care about my tip or getting the right amount of money for the food, just wanted to make it out of there alive.

"Thanks, have a good night"

"Okay then"

As I'm about to leave TWO other boys come out from a room to the right of the entrance way. They also have no shirts on and shaved heads. They all look related in someways, almost like there's a machine in the back room generating stocky, pale white skinheads.

Jesus Christ almighty, how many more were there? A whole fucking klan of these kids? They all just stared at me with blank expressions on their face, as if I was the first person (or maybe the first black person) they'd ever seen in their lives. The man acknowledges no ones, except me, as if there was no one else in the room. I try not to make eye contact for fear that I might get myself into trouble. As I turned around and headed for the door, I glance towards the back of the house and notice a giant confederate flag hanging above an old fire place as if it were there to replace a flap screen TV.

I politely close the door, and then hustle down the stairs as quickly as I could with out slipping on the damp pavement. My car is on, so I jump in, slam the door shut and throw my car into reverse. I tell myself over and over that I saw something very disturbing and that I will NEVER, NEVER in my life deliver another pizza to that house-no matter how badly I want the money.

I get back to the restaurant, visibly flustered, and as I walk in, "the waiter" lifts his head from cleaning a table and gives me a look that only encourages me to tell him what happened. So I tell my boss that I'm "Never in my life, going back to that house again" and I tell the waiter I think they were probably skin heads and he tells me about how one time the man asked him to pick up some "dip for him on the way to deliver the pizza", he described them as "country folk" and said the kids were "weird" and very calmly he shook his head and said"yeah-they're skinheads", but I couldn't tell if he was 100% serious because he loved to talk and it was hard to tell when he was joking or being truthful.

I made a rule that I will NO LONGER enter peoples houses, unless a nice inviting woman, with a nice big house and and even bigger pair of fake breasts answers the door.